Bullpen mom....Movin' on....sadly

Greetings and Happy New Year! I have a resolution to start writing again since this blog has been derailed. What stopped me from writing each day? Well.....

Fade to black.....

First, I do not like giving excuses for behavior. In fact, I own my behavior or lack of behavior. This means that I had no desire to write, post, share anything that I once did with joy. Am I depressed? Uh...no....uh....yes....uh...not really....

Here's what happened.....BP Grandmom was sick...really sick... really really sick and I wanted to be there to help her in any way that I could. So I became a mini caregiver and drove her to appointments, sat with her, took her to chemo, shopping, and penny slots. Yes, she loved her penny slots and was a good gambler. Me? Not lucky...now or ever....

Back to BP Grandmom....she started to get worse and was in pain. As she was undergoing treatment, Big Sis was also diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Huh? Yeah! How about it. This threw a major wrench in the smooth system I created. In fact, things got so bad that Big Sis and BP Grandmom were on the same floor in the hospital at the same time....just feet apart from each other...Oh, it gets better....BP Grandpop was admitted to another hospital about 40 minutes from the ladies at the same time. Having fun?

Not yet....

So, the goal was to make sure mom and Big Sis had the right treatment while Pop was getting the correct care. Fun yet?

Nope....

Then Big Sis got sick after her surgery....real sick....It was bad. Mom was to be released from the hospital and so was Pop on the same day. But mom did not want to go home. She needed additional nursing care and told Scoob, Tink and me that she desired to go to an assisted living facility when she was better and we were to sell the house.

There was just one big problem with this plan...he is about 5'5" tall, Italian, and oh-so stubborn. So we were tasked to make sure there was an assisted living facility that would take them, convince pop it was needed, and sell the house. Simple?

I'll continue....

So, Pop and Grandmom were to be released but not go home. Instead I politely requested that the social workers in both hospitals find a skilled nursing facility where they could be in the same room or at least next to each other. Pop's hospital was more than happy to comply...Grandmom's social worker turned into a petulant child when I changed plans. Fun?

I convinced the social worker to move forward with our request while smiling brightly. After all, you  attract more bees with honey, right? After a few failed attempts, Dr G made it happen with a call to a colleague. He should pick up the phone more often, ya know.....

Then it was time to move them to skilled nursing. They were in rooms next to each other and ate meals and watched television together. Pop began to flourish, but mom did not. She was becoming somnolent and did not want to eat. We tried everything from her favorite ice cream and soda to meals that were simple yet tasty. Nope. She did not want to or could not eat. The nurses did their best, then she was put on something to stimulate her appetite. Nope....

It was the fourth of July and family usually gathered at Dr G's for a barbecue. Mom could not go. Pop could. I sat with mom most of the afternoon realizing it was her last July 4th. Sadness overtook me and I sat there, held her hand, and cried. I was under the impression that no one saw my tears. I willed them to be invisible, but my heart was broken and I held on as long as I could.

During their rehab stint, I found a nice assisted living facility and showed it to pop. He was cool with it as long as mom needed it, then his plan was that they were going home.

As the day for transfer approached, I got a call from the doctor asking me if it was OK to place mom in hospice. I knew it was coming and said yes. First I consulted Dr G and sadly he agreed with the decision.

Hospice set up a bed and mom's new room for comfort. The sibs and I moved furniture and photos, and clothes from home to create a homey place for them. It came time for the move and mom could not physically move. We somehow got her to the apartment when the hospice nurse arrived. Her pain was so great, they immediately transferred her to inpatient hospice for pain management.

She passed away surrounded by family the next morning. Before she passed, she was able to see Big Sis one last time and that Pop was safely placed in assisted living. Her earthly work was done. It was time for her to work her magic in heaven as she watches over us now.

That's it for now...I'll be back....I promise.

No whine zone

Good morning! There is not much going on. The snow is still on the ground. We continue to wear heavy sweaters and boots and it seems that the entire country is miffed about the weather. Nothing to complain about....I think...

Well, the team is preparing for its great California adventure. Sadly, I will not be traveling for this one....unless we have a sudden windfall and win the Powerball. With the new car brakes and the prospect of sending the big kid to Illinois this summer to play ball, it is best that I stay home and listen to the game on the computer. Gee, I would have loved to go, but I have to be realistic. My sofa cushions and pocketbook have a limited amount of change in them. Definitely not enough to pay for airfare and accomodations.

And so, I hang out in the comfort of my home and put warm soaks on Diva's eyes to alleviate the redness and swelling.

Yep, her eyes are still red and swollen and she hates that cone. But, the swelling has gone down, so the doggie eye doctor has earned her money....We will know more when we take her back on Monday for her check up.

So, as the team prepares for the week, the kid had a bullpen session yesterday with his coach and did quite well. He is still frustrated about not playing this weekend, but who can blame him? When he texted me while on the bus, I decided not to attend his pity party and RSVPed 'no'. I would not be sucked into agreeing with 'whoa is me.'

As I said to him yesterday, he has the life that 99.9% of the country wants....travel, meals, part of an exclusive team, baseball cards made with his image, score board with his face on it, broadcasters looking for trivia about him to share with the listeners. Also, he is the big man on campus as he is stared at when he walks into a room. He also has his first stalker. This is huge for a young man. And so, I chose not to commiserate rather I socked him between the eyes (in a figurative sense).

"I didn't play."...Yeah, so.

"I'm not coming back for a 5th year."....OK

"This guy is nuts..." ...Uh huh

Silence. Are you ready?

"Yeah"

"You have been blessed with the athleticism that men and women crave. You are on a division 1 team. You are tall, handsome, and intelligent. You have experiences that you will never forget. The girls in Florida and Iowa love you and your team and search for your hotel on Twitter. You are on the Dean's List. You have met people who can make a difference in your life as you leave baseball. What is the misery? If you want to play more, you have to work with the guy. That's it. Figure it out. Later."

Click.

And so, I left the motherly 'oh, honey...everything will be fine....' in the back seat of the car. I am tired of the whining about fatigue and no one understanding him. This is the life that he has chosen. He could have said: "I am majoring in pre law" and joined the frisbee team. But, no...he wanted this life. Well, dude, you got it. Now put on your big boy pants and let's get going.

Work with Psycho. Do what he wants. Stop complaining. AND...MOST IMPORTANTLY:

Enjoy this journey, because it will be over soon and you do not want to look back on it and say: "I wish that I took the time to appreciate what I had..."

By the way, he now has decided on his walk out song...some Marky Mark song. I have attached it for your personal enjoyment (or not).

Peace!

Little boy-big dream

Good morning! I am a bad girl today. I skipped the work out. You want to know why? I'll tell you....Because I did not want to work out. Period! That's it. I don't want to and I am not going to. OK, perhaps that is not the whole truth. I will go later today. I just don't have the energy to leave the house right now and have too much to do now. But I will go later.
 

On to a very excited big kid.....it seems that he has gotten to meet a World Series hero today.....here is the story.....

As I worked out with Tank at PT, there was a pitcher who was working with Buddy's PT. This physical therapist is actually in the PT Hall of Fame, written books, and works out with all of the top athletes in the world. They come to our tiny borough to work with this guy. He is a legend and continues to make a huge difference in the lives of these people.

As Tank was stretching the arm, I could see that this man was a pitcher and was pretty good when he threw in the tunnel. This got me to think....'who is he?'  He was wearing a team logo sweatshirt so I decided to do some internet digging....and found out his name and what he signed for this year (Millions.....millions.....millions....). When I mentioned it to the big kid, he knew immediately that he had to meet him.

Before returning to school tomorrow, he made it his quest to stop by to see his PT and then he threw me under the bus. Yep, he said that he knew about the pitcher 'cause his mom saw him. Sheesh. Thanks kid.

Anyway, the PT told him to stop by today at 9 am and he could meet him.

Meet him? You mean I can talk with him? Nice!



And so, a plan was hatched.....7 am run to the bakery....purchase 6 cupcakes and 6 muffins...bring them to the PT.....stand in lobby before pitcher gets there......meet him....chat...ask a few questions....don't ask for autograph....don't bug him.....don't act like a tool....that's it....have a cupcake....later, bye....want to have a beer sometime? No, OK...

Actually, he did not ask the beer question. But I know that I broke a rule in the PT office....never take photos and never mention to anyone who is working out. I hope that I am not banned or made to place my arm in the ice bath too long as a punishment...



The conversation was brief but has a long lasting effect. The big leftie called me to report what had happened and here is what I could glean...

He wasn't overly friendly, but that was OK.
He answered his questions and told him how to lock in during the game and how to conduct himself between innings.

It was the most important advice he had ever received.

And now, he is at the Y, working out (unlike his momma), and will return home to write the advice in his journal.



As I look back on the kid's life, I have visions of going to major league games when he and his dad had to get to the ball park to watch batting practice. As a young boy, he brought his glove so that he could catch a ball. After batting practice, he would stand at the fence and scream for the players to come over and give him a ball or autograph.



In all of the years that he went to games, none of the players ever stopped and gave him a ball or signed his cap. He would mutter something about the players snubbing him and walk slowly back to his seat fuming. However, today, he spoke with one of his heroes and all of the times that the professional players walked by him were erased by the kindness of this one man as he spoke to that little boy with the big dream.



Enjoy the day!

Count down to the big day

Good morning! It's now 5 days before Santa comes and I still have not shopped. This is bad...really bad....although I know that gifts are not the reason for the season. In fact, there really should be no gifts. After all, Jesus was born in a manger, not a Ritz Carlton. But.....I don't want to disappoint, soooooooo...

I had 90 minutes to drive to Delaware to hit Macy's sale. I figured that I could out elbow the rest of the shoppers looking for the right size for the big kid.....With all the nervous energy, I completely forgot that the cookie fest cookies were in the front seat of the car as I sat at a stop light. Opening the Rubbermaid container, I figured, I would eat one pizzelle...or two...or three....I had to stop when I finished 15 in less than 5 minutes and thought that I would vomit sprinkles and chocolate chips. The emotional eating is something I need a therapist to help me to figure out. On the positive side, I have not nor will not eat another cookie this season. Done...finito...disgusted with myself and lack of will power. Who does that?

Anyway, as I found a parking space, I felt that the shopping fairies were with me as I worked my way toward the racks with my coupons in my hand. There was so much inventory, I had a hard time sifting through it. After my allotted 90 minutes, I was no closer to finishing the shopping than I was in February. Yep, an abysmal failure.....

Now, there are two things that I can do. The first is to roll up in a sweaty ball on the sofa, drown my sorrows in cheap boxed wine, and turn on country music,  and listen to love gone wrong or someone stole someone's truck. Or, I can get tough....and create a plan of action. Who needs what? Sizes? Shapes? Am I cooking? What do I need? Do I have enough butter?

Next, I will create a grid with the stores and their locations. I have the departments firmly ensconced in my mind and create a map. It will be like searching for treasure. I will be Captain Hook with his trusty map looking for the treasure chest, except the treasure is not gold bullion but Nike socks, hand warmers, pajamas, CDs, jeans, sweaters, and perhaps a treat or ten.

I know that this can work because I have the mall set ups in my mind as if I lived there. The last place on the map is the biggest liquor store in Delaware. 'Cause, let me tell ya....if I get all of this shopping done with presents wrapped and ready, dinners made, and cookies baked by December 24th, you will find me passed out under the tree with an empty box of wine and the dog licking my ear trying to wake me.

With that said, I got to get back to work. Tonight is my last class for 2 weeks and I am ready to par-tee! Ok, not par-tee...plan...shop...wrap....find the roll of tape.....try to open the roll of tape when the end is stuck on the rest of the roll and I can't find the edge...then  I get frustrated and throw it across the room as I hit a piece of heirloom crystal , break it in a thousand pieces, and walk immediately to the liquor cabinet. Who cares if it is 9 am or 9 pm? It is 5 o'clock somewhere.....

Rantings of a fool

Good morning! A beautiful fall day and I sit waiting for the electrician again....for the third time....to fix the same thing.....another bird is trying to fly down the chimney. Boy, am I glad that we have a chimney guard and screen on the top of the flue. Jeez.....I do not want to chase a bird or squirrel through the house today or actually....any day....really...

What's up with Big M? Nothing that I have heard although his precious Eagles did not soar yesterday. They never made it out of the nest, so I hope that he slept through it.



The big kid continues his struggles to figure out life. I found out yesterday that the head coach never met the pitching coach before he was hired. Hmmm.....would I ever hire an assistant that I had not met without seeing if we had any chemistry? I have made so many hiring mistakes that I am not one to throw stones but I met each person that I hired and yes, still made the mistake of hiring them.



With that said, I am a bit upset about the pitching coach using the word 'retard' to describe a player. That's right...about as un-PC as a person can be. And stupid too....Really....come one dude. If you have the gall to yell expletives at your players, please find a different word in your rantings. You look like a fool.

 What can I do as a parent? Nothing...absolutely nothing but equip my kid with one-liners, a spine, and the ability to deflect the rantings of an idiot. With that said, I have absolutely no respect for this man. They could go 50-0 this year and I will still think that he is the biggest #%#^* to hit campus in a long time.

Time to run! Peace...

Eureka!

To begin, I would like to congratulation BP Grandmom and Grandpop on their 58th anniversary. Quite a feat! Talk about the Iron-man and woman of matrimony......They taught us the way that a married couple behaves, treats one another, and acts. Role models for the ages....still holding hands and caring deeply for each other. Wow....that's it....wow!

 

On to our excellent adventure yesterday. Before we left, I specifically asked the kid to make sure that he checked with all realtors to make sure that we saw every single apartment left on the west side of campus. This way, he could party and walk home. It's a no-brainer. I know what he is doing after hours and I want him and the innocent people on the road to be safe. Therefore, the apartment has to be central to everything. In otehr words, we are going to pay top dollar because:
1. the location
2. He is very late in seeking his housing.

 

And so, it went......we saw two apartments because he did not do what I asked (see paragraph above)....The first one was nice but besides a high monthly rent bill, he also had to pay for all utilities including parking....so roughly we are talking about $1100/month. From the moldy second floor window, I could not see a mountain view, lake, or beach, and therefore, it was waaaaayyyyy over priced.

The second place was also waaaay overpriced and pretty disgusting. As we toured the tiny place, I questioned my sanity as to why I wanted to help on this journey. Isn't this clearly a father-son bonding experience? No? OK, moving on.....the overwhelmed, out of college for one month realtor shared that there were cheaper (not by much) apartments 5 miles from campus thus defeating the idea of 'walking' home when inebriated.

 

Next, I decided to (once again) take things into my own hands and went online to search on my cell phone. There were a few singles left a three blocks away from campus. OK, let me call....oy!
The home owner answered and when I explained my neediness and loss of sanity, he replied that he had a single apartment in the right location available. OK, how much? $1190/month....but that includes parking and does NOT include utilities....Nice! No, not nice!!! Dude, you don't understand, my budget is lower..much lower....I want to eat this year.....
Suddenly, he drops the price to $1000/month. Hmmmm....perhaps there is negotiation that can be done. Let's go and see it.

We made arrangements to see the place and Buddy decides he will drive since I have no idea where I am going. Fine. Go ahead. Take the wheel. Sheeesh....

Well, guess what? he made a wrong turn and as he tried to make a u-turn, I saw from the corner of my eye on the outskirts of town, a sign that said "single apartment available". Whoa, nelly....pull over. We're going in.

The apartment is the second floor over a realtor's office and adjacent to a vegen take out place. The realtors were leaving when I pounded on the door to ask for a tour. Fortunately, they were very nice and let me see the place. As we chit chatted a bit, I found out that they rent the baseball house and were in it during the afternoon. They were appalled with the condition of the house and completely understood why he wanted out of the house of mold.

On the the second floor, where I had an out of body experience......when I say that this place was wonderful, I am understating it....Yes, by stupid, dumb, incredibly lucky luck, we found it. And it was the best price, best location, utilities included, and parking on site. The bus stop was ten feet from the front door. There is a woman renting the apartment now and she loved it. I loved it. I wanted it. It had a second floor deck, full kitchen, bedroom, and huge living area......oh my.....I almost signed that moment but knew that I had one more place to see.

reluctantly leaving the beautiful second floor apartment, I visualized the place turning into the greatest college apartment ever...with the owners working on the first floor, I knew that the kid would be on his best behavior. Wow....

Ok, on to the last place....as the owner met us, there was a minor flood in the kitchen as he was defrosting the freezer. The outside of the place was neat, an older home with a porch (perfect for friend's gatherings, not an uber-party). Inside was another story. When I use the word "ewww", I think that a person understands that it was beyond disgusting. The floors, bathroom, and kitchen were growing their own mold and bacteria and it smelled like a locker room full of dirty sneakers mixed with last week's trash. Yuk! Thanking the realtor who had dropped the price for us, we left knowing that we were taking the second floor apartment.

 

And so, here we have it.....today, the kid is faxing the paper work to the realtor and taking the neatest place on the planet. The outside is well cared for. The inside is so nice that I would actually (but not) consider sleeping there. it has great potential, he already decided to string white lights around the porch and put a Christmas tree up (whoa dude, it's June, right?).

Somehow, some way, this adventure worked out. After discovering that he was way too late to find anything livable, we managed through a wrong turn to find the apartment of the year.
Folks, this is something that never happens for us. That's right....crazy, stupid luck. We don't have it, never have, never will....but somehow, some way....I am speechless......and so it goes in the crazy and once lucky life of BP mom.

Have a great day! Momma is happy...very very happy!